


zenith

by erzi



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-28
Updated: 2015-02-28
Packaged: 2018-03-15 14:36:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3450731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erzi/pseuds/erzi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I'm proud of you,” Iwaizumi says, and he means it so much it shakes his words, his hands, his very core.</p>
            </blockquote>





	zenith

It's too quiet. The deep rumble of the bus motor is the only sign of life. Iwaizumi knows part of it is the tiredness, that ache biting down to their bones after such a match. But he'd be a fool to think their fatigue is the sole reason the silence persists.

He cranes his head to the side. Oikawa continues to steadfastly face the window, has been sitting statue-still since they got on. It's difficult to believe that the person sitting next to Iwaizumi now is the same one from the court. That energy, that fiery will from earlier kindled down from white-hot anger, to denial, to grief, ending with acceptance. At least it would be that soon, if it hadn't settled yet. It would come.

Shaking hands with Karasuno had left a vague acidic burn in the back of Iwaizumi's throat. Of course it was the honorable, sportsmanlike thing to do, and he had respect for the winner of any fair match – and what a match that had been. But it didn't make it any less painful. His stomach churned and twisted in itself, reliving the game.

For a split second after that last fated volleyball had fallen, his first thought had not been one of despair. The first thing to come to mind, the first sight he flicked his eyes to had been Oikawa. All their years of friendship had left an impression of Oikawa's soul on Iwaizumi's own. While Iwaizumi had his own individual set of thoughts, he knew or could guess without much doubt what went on in Oikawa's tumultuous mind. The two of them were linked, intricately so; synchronized in soul and body in a way he couldn't describe, but simply feel from the bottom of his gut as intrinsic, perpetual, _right_. And so he knew that when that volleyball touched the floor, Oikawa's mind would undergo a rain of fire and storm of hail all at once. Glancing at Oikawa to see how he reacted had not been a reaction, but instinct.

Once that ball struck the floor with that sickening sound, the world had stopped not just for the both of them, but for their entire team. The world had stood still as Karasuno yelled in victory, their exuberance strangely muffled to his ears; as Oikawa stayed rooted to his spot, stone-faced, meeting Kageyama's eye. Yet Iwaizumi ran to Oikawa, ignoring the screaming of his limbs, the crowd, the other team. He ran, and it took a year, maybe even a century, but he reached him, and threw his arms around him tight and strong, like he would never let go. And Oikawa had clung to him like he never would either.

Iwaizumi snaps back to reality, wiping bitterly at his eyes with the heel of his palm. His heart is racing again, remembering what feels has occurred a lifetime ago, that dizzying whirl of emotions rushing back to him in a tidal wave. He tries to calm himself by taking in a deep, long breath through his nose, but the air comes to him in rough patches. _Damn it_ , he thinks, and tries again. In – slowly, surely; out – deliberately, smoothly. One, three, five breaths later, he's alright again. So he turns to Oikawa once more, and speaks to the back of his head.

“I'm proud of you,” Iwaizumi says, and he means it so much it shakes his words, his hands, his very core.

Oikawa hears him, because his head bobs the slightest bit, like he'd wanted to turn around and say something, but decided it wasn't worth it.

“I think that was your best match yet. No, I _know_ so.” Iwaizumi's tongue is suddenly heavy and too large for his mouth. “And I know- I know it sucks to lose; you hate it, I hate it, we all do. That's the way sports work, though. Sometimes, you lose. But...” He considers how to word himself next. “That's okay.”

He keeps on going, the words stumbling out of him. “I know you're not saying it aloud, and I think some small part of you still holds on to these sort of thoughts, but our loss wasn’t your fault. Don't play any goddamn mental 'what-if' games either, because anything could have gone wrong, not just that last point. It's poison, thinking that way.” He purses his lips. “I'm beyond glad to be a part of this team, and to have you as captain. Even though we didn't win, the way we played, I don't- I wouldn't trade it for the world.”

Oikawa turns, at last, and he takes Iwaizumi's breath away for a moment. His eyes have a sheen of tears not cried, his still-sweaty bangs are sticking to his head, but he's smiling: a soft, shy smile, and it's the most beautiful thing Iwaizumi has ever seen.

“I really wasn't thinking any of that negative stuff,” he says. “I-I'm not that stubborn anymore.”

“You should have shut me up, then,” Iwaizumi mumbles. He feels a tinge of warmth in his cheeks. “Saved me the embarrassment.”

Oikawa hums in thought. “Hmm. Nope.” His smile turns cheeky. “Now I can hold this against you. Noble Iwa-chan, blabbering on about how great I am and how losing's okay. Honestly, I couldn't have asked for better blackmail material. To think you'd actually say some of that – and I am directly quoting past-you here – 'inspirational feel-good bullshit from those cheesy movies you like'!”

He's bubbling in laughter and Iwaizumi punches his arm, but it's light, a customary Iwaizumi reaction to customary Oikawa words. He's trying not to laugh along with him, truthfully.

Oikawa's laughter dies down, and his mischievous eyes soften, now a tender gaze that leaves Iwaizumi almost dismantled. “Were you that worried about me?” he asks, so quietly, his words tickling Iwaizumi's ears.

A thousand different ways to say 'yes' spring to Iwaizumi's mind. He opens his mouth, and nothing comes out, because how can he describe how absolutely incredible Oikawa is and how unfair the world is to him sometimes; how his heart was close to bursting when he saw how Oikawa looked at Kageyama once that ball decided their fates; how, just how, could he say anything at all?

“Don't be so dumbstruck,” Oikawa teases. “I know you were, you big softie.”

“You're an ass," Iwaizumi says, but his voice croaks.

Oikawa quirks a smile. “I did like what you had to say, though. Really. I was trying to tell myself the same sort of positive things. But hearing them from you makes them, like, _actually_ reassuring, you know? Also, I can't exactly turn down free compliments, can I.” He leans on Iwaizumi, resting his head against his shoulder. “Especially from you.”

Silence falls again, but it's no longer a stifling spell. This silence is freeing, the kind to be shared in comfort. They sit like that for a bit. Iwaizumi watches the gentle rise and fall of Oikawa's chest, and notices that it matches his own breathing.

He feels something – Oikawa's fingers, tentatively seeking his hand. They way they fidget asks, _Is this alright?_ And Iwaizumi links his fingers with his. _You should know._ Their hands together fit so perfectly, two jigsaw pieces within the puzzle of their relationship. 

“It stings,” Oikawa says casually, mindlessly twiddling his thumb on Iwaizumi's. “Knowing that all that hard work only went so far; that this was our last shot at beating Shiratorizawa. It's all over now.”

Iwaizumi bites his lip. “No,” he says, resolute.

“No?”

“Because we're leaving behind an amazing team. Because they will learn from this loss, as will we. Because you have the entire world at your fingertips. There's a whole road to walk after this; high school volleyball only goes so far, but now, you can have and do _more_. You're...” He trails off, glancing down at Oikawa, and thinks he can see the stars, the universe in his eyes.

“I'm what?”

“I think,” Iwaizumi blurts out before he can process what he's saying, “that you're really only beginning your peak. You're amazing, and you're gonna be right there, at the very top, because God knows you have the skill and raw determination to work your way there.” He pauses in contemplation. “There's a word for that, isn't there? An astronomical term, I think? You like that stuff, so I'm sure you know it.”

“The zenith,” he replies easily.

“Yeah,” Iwaizumi says, “and that's your place. You're not there yet, I won't lie, but that doesn’t make you any less good. It serves as motivation: you know that you still have room to grow; that you can improve, be better than how you are already. And you can attain it. You will." 

Then Oikawa smiles dazzlingly, sincerely, and the stars are absolutely brimming within him. "Only if you're there with me."

Iwaizumi's throat closes up, and he knows whatever word escapes his lips will be strained. He lightly presses his mouth atop those downy locks of Oikawa's, squeezes his hand, and makes himself speak. “Always.”

**Author's Note:**

> chapters 146-147... i'm not ok...
> 
> had to take some liberties, since we don't really know much about seijou's reaction to losing. so if in the manga the rest of seijou ends up doing an adorable 'thank u' sort of speech to the 3rd yrs like i feel will happen, just know this was written before that.


End file.
